The royal procession faded behind him as Leon silently rode toward a quieter part of the kingdom.
He had been asked to stay for a while by the king, but he couldn't—not yet. There was somewhere he needed to be first.
Still, out of respect, he had promised to return and attend the royal ball the following night.
The sound of trumpets and the cheering crowd had long faded into the distance, leaving only the steady clop of his horse's hooves against the cobblestone path to accompany him.
His destination, a massive gated manor, soon came into view.
This was the Castiel Estate.
The home Leon had grown up in. Unlike most noble families that in some way descended from the royal family, the Castiel family had earned the right to nobility.
House Castiel was known across Caelwyn as the House of Steel and Light—a name spoken with reverence on training fields and in the halls of military academies.
For generations, they had produced the finest magic swordsmen the kingdom had ever seen. Knights that were considered geniuses even among geniuses.
Their name was etched into every major battle in Caelwyn's history.
Where others bore noble titles given by marriage or politics, Castiel titles were earned on the battle field.
A fact that Leon had just sealed by doing the impossible—slaying Malphas, the Demon King.
He slowed his horse as the front gates opened with a soft creak. He didn't need to knock. They had likely seen him coming from the watch tower.
A familiar voice called out.
"Open the courtyard! Open it now!"
That voice, he'd recognize it anywhere.
Harvin.
The steward of House Castiel for nearly four decades, the same man who practically raised Leon as his own. The man who taught him how to mount a horse before he could even read.
He came hobbling down the steps faster than a man his age should be able to, eyes wide and glistening with disbelief.
"Leon?" he whispered, hands trembling.
Leon just smiled in response before saying, "it's been a while old man."
Yeah, "a while" might've been a massive understatement since it has been three years since he joined the war and hadn't returned since.
Harvin reached forward, grasping Leon's shoulder. "You came home. Thank the goddess—you came home."
And then the old man did what Leon never expected, he pulled him into a hug.
Leon stood still for a moment, then slowly returned it with his remaining arm. The embrace was brief, but it said what words could not.
That's when he heard more hurried footsteps approaching.
"Leon?"
He turned.
A boy, well not quite a boy anymore, skidded down the marble steps of the manor and crashed straight into him.
Cassian, Leon's younger brother buried his face in Leon's armor. Not the smartest decision since his armor was still stained with demon blood but Leon let him be.
After all, they hadn't seen each other since Cassian was fifteen. Leon's younger brother looked exactly like him, only younger and with both arms still intact.
Cassian pulled back, his expression shifting between joy and disbelief.
"Gods, you look awful," he muttered, laughing even as his eyes glistened with tears. "And taller. How do you get taller after losing an arm?"
Leon let an amused smile slip before he replied, "battle scars stretch you out. Didn't they teach you that in training?"
Before more words could be exchanged between the brothers, a soft, elegant voice sounded behind Cassian.
"Cassian, don't smother your brother. He just got home."
Lady Mireille Castiel descended the steps with the grace of nobility. Her eyes were those of a mother who had spent too many sleepless nights wondering if her son would return whole or at all.
Her lavender gown trailed behind her, and her hazel hair was swept into a braid crowned with a simple pin.
But her poise faltered the moment she reached him.
"Leon..." she breathed, hand trembling over her lips. "Oh my dear boy."
She held his face with trembling fingers as tears streamed down her eyes.
"You're really here," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. "They said... they said you led the charge, that you defeated him. But I needed to see you. I needed to touch you to believe it."
Leon lowered his gaze, humbled. "I came home, Mother. Just like I promised."
Mireille laughed softly, brushing a curl away from his brow, "you did, you really did."
Then, gently, her eyes drifted to his missing arm.
Her smile faltered.
She reached for it, slowly, almost hesitantly, as though afraid touching the space where it once was might hurt him all over again.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Leon shook his head. "Don't be. I'm alive. That's more than I can say for a lot of good men."
Before Mireille could respond, a soft, almost timid voice came from behind her gown.
".....big brother?"
He looked down.
A young girl, perhaps five at most, peeked up at him with her wide silver eyes.
"Liora," he whispered, kneeling slowly onto one knee.
She could barely walk properly the last time he saw her. She took a hesitant step forward, then another, and finally launched herself into his chest.
Tightly wrapping her arms around him, she muttered, "I missed you, big brother."
Leon smiled and rested his chin lightly against her head. "I missed you too, little star."
As she clung tighter, a presence made itself known at last.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood at the top of the manor's stairs.
Lord Alden Castiel, head of the Castiel line, clad in a black coat embroidered with silver threads. His hair had gone more grey since Leon last saw him but his demeanor still remained the same.
Leon stood and gave a small nod of acknowledgement.
"Father."
Alden's silver eyes took a moment to scan Leon's form before he finally spoke. His voice was devoid of any emotion.
"You've returned victorious."
"Yes."
"You lost your arm."
"Yes."
"You killed the Demon King."
Leon paused, then nodded once more. "I did."
Alden studied him in silence for a moment. Then, with the faintest flicker of something that he considered a smile as he turned and said, "Then come inside. There is much to discuss."
And with that, the Lord of the House turned and disappeared into the manor.
"Well, That could be counted as emotional from him, right?" Cassian said.
Leon smiled faintly as he picked up Liora with his remaining arm and followed.
It wasn't that their father hated them or anything—far from it, actually. Alden Castiel was a man who struggled with displaying emotions, a trait often misunderstood as coldness or indifference.
But his family knew him well enough to know that he cared as much as they all did.
"Let's go inside," Mireille said as she walked past them and behind her husband, her relief evident on her face.